


heaven falls on me

by ghoulboys



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Aftermath of Handsome Jackpot, Alien Zer0 (Borderlands), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous Relationships, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, They/Them Pronouns for Zer0 (Borderlands)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-02-23 06:15:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23373625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghoulboys/pseuds/ghoulboys
Summary: Rhys is the broken shell of a man after the fall of Helios and through the rise of Atlas.Timothy needs a home after the Casino.-"Do you think this is funny, Moxxi?" Rhys snarls, though he fails to take his eyes off the doppelganger in front of him. "You know how—""—Jack ruined your life?" Timothy interrupts. "Yeah, join the club."
Relationships: Timothy Lawrence/Rhys
Comments: 30
Kudos: 110





	1. Prologue.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know, Rhys had some ties with Jack too,” Moxxi sighs, turning her head back to the facility entrance, "'course, not the good kind. But what more can you expect from Hyperion scumlords, right, sugar? At least he got outta it before he could get scarred real bad."
> 
> Timothy let out a bitter laugh, and Moxxi found herself cringing at her word choices.

After the events of the casino, Timothy found himself missing not only his hand, but now a large part of his identity.

For years, he had been forced to play as Jack.

Stale, bored walls around him force anyone with a functioning eye to focus on the flamboyant poster of Hyperion looking for volunteers. And the white text at the very bottom made it impossible to notice it was not a real Hyperion issued poster, nor were they truly funded by Hyperion.

Jack manipulated people, even with posters, and that fact had nearly made Timothy laugh when he was stuck in the interview room and had the papers laid out in front of him.

"The debt of a lifetime, Timmy, paid off within just a few years! It's a steal," the older man had been saying, with a nonchalant wave of his hand. "I mean, you'd have to be a friggin' idiot to not sign those papers, kiddo."

Jack had been easy on the eyes at the time, Timothy had to admit; he wasn't that much older than himself, but obviously it had been quite a while since the man was in college, and it didn't look like he was suffering from any sort of debts. Stress lines made a surprise appearance whenever Jack opened his mouth, sure, but apart from that it was barely noticeable.

Timothy was jealous, if he was being honest at the time—barely college free and it felt like his only emotion _was_ stress.

Jack was good with his words. Timothy had picked up the pen in front of him and scribbled a signature before he could really register what he was agreeing to, God forbid register what he was doing in general.

A debt being paid in full just seemed like a good deal at the time, really.

To say he regretted the entire thing would be a lie—it was one of the worst mistakes of his life, but maybe the real mistake was going to college.

What a wonderful takeaway.

At least he got to meet Moxxi, and meet some friends while he was at it—none of them really long lasting. They all ended up dead.

That was more depressing than Timothy liked to admit, but familiar faces were accepted either way, no matter how Moxxi played a role in his past.

Even if she had been a factor in driving Jack over the edge.

He still couldn't help but fall for her.

“Listen, sugar. You’re a real sweet kid, but this whole thing... you aren’t Jack, but after our history, would it ever work out?”

Timothy's snapped back into reality, and he's acutely aware of everything happening around him now; they were on Promethea now. How long had passed? Nearly a century? He let out a near sad chuckle, and drew his sight over to the Atlas facility nearby.

At least she was doing him a favor, while rejecting him at the same time.

“Ahhh... yeah," Timothy lifts a hand to rub at the back of his neck, sheepish, “I never really thought I had a real chance with you, Mox, if I'm being honest.”

“Aw sugar.” Moxxi chuckles, and lifts a hand to cup his face. He closes his eyes for only a moment, and the touch is gone as quick as it had arrived; he could still feel how soft her hands were. "I know."

How was that possible? If he ignored the fact Moxxi was old enough to be his mother, it was sweet. Even to this day he melted into her touch, as if it was their first meeting all over again.

“But that’s why I thought this kid would be a good fit for you.” Moxxi is quick to change the subject, and he can't tell if that's because she genuinely wants to get this over with or some other good reason that can't seem to introduce itself to him at the moment; Timothy follows her sight either way, and looks at the Atlas headquarters.

It's definitely a sight to behold, if anything; flashy, red, contrast to the regular blue hues that Promethea possesses. It's a beacon in the city of Meridian.

“Right," Timothy begins, quiet at first, slowly regaining confidence to speak up, "You know, never did I think Atlas would actually make another name for themselves. Jack made sure of that."

“He sure did,” Moxxi agrees, crossing her arms at her chest, lips in a sideways frown that Timothy could almost call poutish. “But this kid... he’s got some spunk, you know. Rose Atlas like a Phoenix. Think that’s one of their new phrases, actually.”

Timothy scrunched his nose. “Cheesy," he remarked.

“You said it.”

“So... you really think he can help?”

There’s a few beats of silence before Moxxi turns to look at him again, and this time, her expression is softer. Much more relaxed. “I do, Timothy. I think he’ll take pity on you.”

“Pity,” Timothy repeats, expression falling.

Moxxi furrows her eyebrows, arms dropping to her sides. “Not pity. Empathy.” She corrects herself, and brushes her front down idly.

“What makes you say that?”

“Well... he had some ties with Jack too,” She sighs, turning her head back to the facility entrance, "'course, not the good kind. But what more can you expect from Hyperion scumlords, right, sugar? At least he got outta it before he could get scarred real bad."

Timothy let out a bitter laugh, and Moxxi found herself cringing at her word choices.

He doesn't mind, even if it's a reminder of what's underneath his mask. He has bigger concerns.

“And he won’t shoot me on the spot for looking like this?"

“You’re a Vault Hunter, Timothy.” Moxxi states, and her tone is firm now. “You’re Sanctuary family, sugar. And do you really think I'd take you to some nut job who's first instinct'll be to kill you? Show a little respect.”

Timothy’s lips split into a wide smile, and he even _laughs_.

"You're right, Mox. What did you say his name was?"

"Rhys."

"Weird name," Timothy muses, but begins to walk with her into the facility. The doors open for them automatically, and he takes notice of how relaxed security is compared to how it was on Helios.

"He's a weird kid." Moxxi replies, tone light with amusement, "but I think you two will get along, sugar. Think you'll like him."

"Yeah," Timothy says, soft.

"I hope so."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! i hope you'll stick around with this lil story of mine!  
> it's gonna, hopefully, be a rather long one.


	2. First Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys and Timothy meet.  
> It's a bit awkward.

"Mr Strongfork, Moxxi is at the front desk. She has someone who'd like to meet you."

A surprise visit from Moxxi was unheard of.

Well, visits from Moxxi in general were unheard of—it's not like the two chatted often. They weren't friends in the slightest sense, merely acquaintances.

Zer0 had been the one to introduce the two of them, and Rhys could remember the day vividly, mostly because Moxxi had to remind him more than twice that her eyes were much higher up than Rhys had been looking, and Rhys ended up leaving the bar flustered and pouting.

Zer0 found it funnier than he had, and he couldn't hold it against them; in retrospect, it was hard for anyone not to be attracted to Moxxi unless she just simply wasn't their type. Rhys found it hard to imagine someone could have a type that wasn't Moxxi, and found himself often cursing Jack for tainting any chances any company man would ever have with her. Even if it wasn't on his behalf.

The Atlas CEO swiveled in his chair, though he didn't have to think about the decision. Moxxi never came to visit, so it would have to be important for her to grace him with her presence; he tapped the intercom on his desk without a second thought.

"Go ahead, Meg. Thank you."

Rhys takes the time of silence that follows after that to fix his appearance. Atlas had slowly been piecing itself back together after the downfall of Katagawa Jr and the stopped attempts at merging with Maliwan, and thus he could appreciate his appearance more; no more ragged clothes, to put it lightly. Even seeing photos of himself in the short time span the takeover had occurred were enough to get him to cringe. How could he ever stop taking care of himself like that?

He decides to try another facemask before heading to bed, and his thoughts are not-so-rudely interrupted by the elevator door pinging.

He can barely see who's behind Moxxi, but it's obviously a man—unfortunately, his features are blocked by Moxxi's exaggerated and bouncy hair. Rhys would've scowled if Moxxi's eyes didn't meet him at that moment, and instead he forces a polite smile. She whispers something to the man before beginning to walk, and he stays behind her the entire time.

Now, Rhys' hand is slowly going to his side. Just in case.

Of course this happens the day Zer0 is out of office.

"Miss Moxxi," he calls out, deciding to fill the room with something other than the clicking of Moxxi's heels, "what a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?"

"A favour, sugar." Moxxi replies, nothing less than firm.

"You know I'd be nothing less than happy," Rhys states, deciding not to mention obliged, "but this whole hiding thing is kind of making me uneasy. Meg said you had a plus one."

"I do." Moxxi said.

"That doesn't help much," Rhys says, rolling his hand to prompt more information.

"You might wanna sit down, Rhys."

The use of his first name makes him frown.

He'd have to be a fool to think Moxxi was anything less than deadly; he knew about her, what she did. She could protect herself and she did, on a daily basis. Not to mention she had an army of Vault Hunters at her disposal. They'd be happy to take her word for a bit of cash.

"I sure hope this isn't some weird assassination attempt." Rhys says, slowly, as if spelling the words out for Moxxi before he'd begin to take his seat.

She cracks a smile at that, and sets a hand on her hip. "On you, sugar? You aren't worth my time for that."

"Ouch," He deadpans.

"Cold truth."

"Mox, can I move now? I'm kinda feeling left out," comes a soft whisper from behind her.

Moxxi looks surprised, as if she forgot she brought someone else along with her, before rolling her eyes. She's lucky he can't see that, Rhys thinks to himself.

"Yeah, sugar." She says, before looking back at Rhys, "don't try anything, Atlas."

"I wasn't really planning on it, Mox." He replies, lifting his hands in surrender. She shrugs, lips pursed, before stepping out of the way.

And the man before him, is nothing less of Handsome Jack himself.

"Uh."

Timothy and Rhys stare at each other.

Timothy offers a sheepish smile. Rhys is beginning to feel light headed.

It feels like a century before someone finally speaks, and it's surprisingly Rhys who does, "well... he isn't trying to kill me, so I don't think this is the original."

"Funny." Moxxi deadpans nearby.

"I wasn't trying to be," Rhys replies, eyebrows furrowing and lips drawing back into a sort of snarl. "Do you think this is funny, Moxxi? You know how—"

"—Jack ruined your life?" Timothy finally speaks, interrupting him. "Yeah. Join the club."

Rhys had heard rumors of Handsome Jack doubles before; it was hard to go far in Hyperion without hearing it. Most people boiled it down to silly conspiracy theories, though there was some sort of excitement behind the idea. If you had run into Jack, was it truly him? Or was it one of various versions of himself? If the press released footage of a so-called attack on Jack himself, and the next day the man is unscathed, was the man just invincible?

And how many were out there?

They were all thoughts Rhys once found himself pondering, and was embarrassed to admit he'd fawned over the idea of Jack forming an army of himself in the form of various body doubles.

It all felt very ironic, when at the end of the day, that's what Jack had fully intended on using him for.

Now it was like this was some sort of sick joke Moxxi was trying to play at, though why would she? The woman wouldn't have much to gain from it other than seeing him squirm, and though many could attest to that being quite fun, there were various amounts of other ways to get that sort of reaction. Like simply existing in his vicinity as someone like Moxxi.

Hi bi-colored eyes finally move from somewhere other than Timothy's face, and the area where a hand should be.

His shoulders drop, and his features drastically relax.

"Oh." He says intelligently.

"Oh," Timothy echoes, "yeah."

On reflex, Rhys' flesh hand moves to clasp the bicep of his mechanical and rub his thumb over the warmed metal. This made much more sense than Moxxi simply being cruel, and now he began to feel guilty for his initial reaction. Stuttering didn't seem to help, as all he could really get out was, "I... Um..."

"Timothy," the man finally says, "my name is Timothy."

"Timothy," Rhys repeats, slowly as if hearing the name for the first time, and his eyes find Timothy's again. He studies the man for a few moments, and his echo eye suddenly beams back to life, making the man in question shrink back.

 **HANDSOME JACK**  
**Age:** [REDACTED]  
**Dick Size:** Bigger than yours  
**Hotness Levels:** Through the roof  
_Want a piece of this action, cupcake?_

"Does it say—"

"That you're Jack, still? Yeah." Rhys murmured, deactivating it after another moment.

Moxxi decides this is a perfect time to butt in and remind everyone she's still present, stepping up to the front of Rhys' desk and laying her palms flat against it. She supports her front weight against it in a way that gets him to pale.

"Sugar, you know I don't ask other people for favors." She says, a finger tapping the wood. "Humor me once. He needs a home."

Rhys exhales slowly, and then finally nods.

"Yeah, Mox," he murmured. "Okay."

She lifts a hand and pats his cheek, patronizing, getting him to flinch. If she notices, she doesn't comment.

Moxxi stands up straight a moment later and turns entirely to look at Timothy again, smiling at him now. Rhys notices the way his shoulders sag when Timothy notices, and the way his breathing comes much steadier. His eyebrows soften and his lips quirk into something of a smile.

Gross, Rhys almost thinks to himself, she could be your grandmother.

"Well, sugar. I'll be in contact." She says, cupping his cheek and rubbing her thumb over the cracks in his mask. "You're in good hands now, 'kay? Play nice with him."

"Oh, you know me, Mox..." Timothy chuckles, albeit weakly, "that's... that's my second nature."

All Moxxi does is smile and glance back at Rhys before departing. Though she does pat Zer0 on the shoulder when she passes the assassin.

"Have i missed something? / I was not aware that we / were meeting with Moxxi."

There's a beat, and then, "hi, Timothy."

"Hey, Zer0."

Rhys simply covers his face and sighs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely comments on the last chapter, I really appreciate it. I'm glad everyone seems to be enjoying this.  
> I'm always open for criticism; I haven't written properly like this in a while.  
> Updates every Sunday (hopefully) <3  
> See you guys next week.


	3. Past Grievances (and the unfortunate now)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember when everyone theorized Timothy was the doppelganger in Opportunity?

PAST  
—

"Zer0, sugar, before you go to Opportunity... can you meet me at my bar?"

Collecting their next task of finding and breaking into the Bunker for Angel had been stressful, if Zer0 were being honest. And the mention of going to Opportunity to kill a doppelganger of Handsome Jack's had been almost exciting to imagine—like practice for the real version, really.

Moxxi's voice in their ear made Zer0 pause at the fast travel station. They were being sent to Opportunity alone, the rest of the Vault Hunters going ahead to wait for Zer0 in the Thousand Cuts. The assassin's ability to stealth made for easy work, and having a whole pack of Vault Hunters just seemed like a bad idea when told the doppelganger would take off at the sight of danger.

When Zer0 arrives at Moxxi's bar, she doesn't hold her usual smirk, nor her confident exterior. She leans against the back of the bar for support, a hand resting on her cheek, and lifts her head when Zer0 steps in.

"Hey, sugar." She greets.

"Moxxi." Zer0 replied, moving to take a seat at the bar and wait patiently.

"I need to ask a favor." There's something similar to still silence between them, Zer0 simply waiting for more information. Moxxi continues. "The doppelganger you may meet in Opportunity. I'm... I'm worried about him. He might be someone I know."

"Might?" Zer0 repeated, with a curious tilt of their head.

"Years ago, sugar, when I worked closely with Jack, he had this kid with him. Names Timothy Lawrence." Moxxi reaches into her bra to pull out a small, folded up photo. She sets it on the bar and Zer0 takes it without issue, opening it up to examine.

Two Jack's, alike in every way.

Though one of them had freckles. Zer0 casts a _:)_ in amusement.

"He was a real sweet kid, you know?" Moxxi continues. "And Jack... Well, Jack contracted him for nearly half his life. If anyone will be down at Opportunity, it'll be him. Jack won't hesitate to sacrifice his worker bees, even if it's someone he knows personally. And this kid doesn't deserve the type of death you may give him, Hyperion or not."

Zer0 looks back up at Moxxi, handing the photo back to her.

"Listen, I'll just... I'll keep an eye on your ECHO Comm, and I'll know if it's him." She leans forward, pressing her hands flat against the bar. "I'll _know,_ Zer0. Trust me on this."

"Wasn't planning on not." Zer0 replies, a heart emoticon followed, and Moxxi grins at him.

"You sure know how to make a girl feel special, sugar."

-

Timothy can't exactly remember what had occurred in order for Jack to send him down to Opportunity, though he was cursing the entire time he had been stuck in a shuttle, apart from when he was attempting to not throw up.

Opportunity itself was a nice little city, though the Hyperion colours and statues of Jack _everywhere_ and thus, himself, were enough to give him an eyesore and a headache as soon as he stepped foot out of the bullet he had ridden in on the way down.

The city glistened over the sea, basking in golden hues and reflecting light to get grass on the highlands to disintegrate into nothing. He almost regrets not bringing sunglasses upon arrival, though he knew Jack would do nothing but taunt him for his weakness to the Pandoran sun and then scold him. No wonder he could stare at a monitor for night and day (though it was relative on Helios) without so much as a complaint about his eyesight, only about the lack of coffee on his desk and the amount of emails piling up in his inbox.

He supposed it also explained why Jack was always so damn tan. It always annoyed him that his skin tone was much darker than the mans mask.

Timothy is cut off from his thoughts by a scratchy, stuttering voice; it pierces through the silence in a way that nearly gets Timothy to flinch. Like nails on a chalkboard, and he suppresses a sigh. "H-Handsome Jack, sir! Welcome to Opportunity, sir!"

He settles into the role without any hesitation. His shoulders square, his chest inflates, and he sucks in his stomach. Although he can't see it himself, he knows the grin that slides across his lips is nothing short of predatory. "We're so grateful you took the time to come down, we're your biggest fans, yada-yada-yada. Heard it all, don't want it repeated. Don't care, kiddo. Lets get this shit-show over with before I get snappy."

With a snap of his fingers, just to seethe engineers flinch, they embark further into Opportunity. Timothy sails through the city, long strides and a grin ear to ear, stopping every few moments to fix smudges on the Handsome Jack statues.

"God, do you guys ever stop _talking_?" Timothy barks out, "Sir this, sir that, sir take a look at this _ooh I'm gonna piss myself if you look at me wrong—_ "

"Sir?"

Timothy turns to look at the lead engineer, head to toe. Much shorter than himself. Annoying yellow and black gear. Little worker bee.

He sighs, "Kiddo, what's your name?"

"P-Paul," They croak. Much quieter. He could've dropped to his knees and thanked the gods then and there.

"Alright, Paul, listen—"

A gunshot splits Opportunity in half like broken Earth, and a splatter of blood sprays over Timothy before Paul is dropping to the floor.

Jack sent him down here for a fucking assassination attempt. Perfect.

To say that Timothy wasn't used to it would be a lie; he got sent to galas, meetings, tours and whatnot that included assassination attempts every other week. "Vault Hunter!" An engineer screams, and the entirety of the golden city raises arms.

Timothy was really itching for _something_ exciting to happen. But a vault hunter? The ones Jack had been attempting to kill for months now? His anxieties rose, and he dove behind the statute of Jack to take cover. He presses his back up against the calf of fake-Jack's leg, and only pkes his head out to shout, "well, are you blind or something? Shoot 'em!"

"We're trying, sir, he's—" The engineer is silenced near immediately. _Whoever that was just got their sentence cut short by a sword to the neck, judging by the gurgling,_ Timothy thinks.

So we're dealing with Zer0. Timothy was fucked.

"Fuck," Timothy sighs, right before they appear in front of himself. He aims his gun, but Zer0 is quick to deliver a blow to his stomach just by simply kicking him. It doesn't give him the time he needs, though he fires off a shot that hits a statue parallel of himself. 

He could add that to the list of scoldings, if he lived.

Though Timothy is surprised when Zer0's next swing isn't slicing their sword straight across his neck, and instead a quick hit to his wrist to disarm Timothy. He isn't going down without a fight however, hand instinctively moving to grasp Zer0's wrist and stop any further movements of their sword.

-

Timothy was putting up an impressive fight, to the Vault Hunter's standards. If it were anyone else, he might think the man had a chance of surviving the fight; unfortunately for Timothy, Zer0 was much more confident than he might realize, even with the movements of their sword paused by Timothy's grip.

They could've ripped their wrist from their grasp and stabbed through Timothy's stomach in a heartbeat, but they're far too distracted; "Zer0, lower your weapon!" Moxxi nearly screams in their ear, "that's Timothy! Don't hurt him!"

"Vault hunter!" Follows a moment later, with the silhouette of Angel appearing, wide eyed with flowing hair; she chews on her lip in the top center of Zer0's vision. "Please, listen to Moxxi. That's... that's Timothy."

Zer0 was, perhaps surprisingly, not a killing machine; they could control themselves, and thus, they lower their weapon near immediately. Timothy wasn't cowering, and instead glaring up at Zer0 with tight lips and lines around the eyes that dared Zer0 to challenge his identity.

They could have felt remorse, though the most they do is project a _:/_ emoticon and lower their arm, Timothy's wrist following suit from the hold. Engineers nearby groan in pain as their last breath leaves their body, and Timothy seems acutely aware of the situation now, and the fact he was being spared.

"Not even going to fight back? / How unlike Jack, / Timothy Lawrence."

The paling in Timothy's face could have been amusing if it wasn't just around the edges of the mask. From what Zer0 typically noticed, Jack was quite tan around the mask, which was a starkly pale in comparison to what his skin tone reflected; it also gave the mask much more of a pop, but also made anyone in the vicinity aware of the fact it was not a true face attached to the man and just a configuration of one.

"You... you know my name?" Timothy questions, identity of Jack falling through his fingers like putty, "no one has called me that in _years_."

"I can imagine / such, but our friend seems fond of / you. You'll be excused." Zer0 replies, having Timothy release their wrist before they'd sheath their sword again, digistructing itself out of existence for the time being. 

Timothy slowly drops his shoulders as he processes the information. "Friend," he repeats, "I don't have any friends." 

"It is not for you / to know. I need your pocket / watch though, just for borrow."

"My pocket watch." Timothy repeated, moving up to clasp the shield on his chest and then rip it from his jacket and drop it into Zer0's extended hand. "Uh... Thanks for not killing me."

"Just do not tell Jack / of this and you will be fine. / We will meet again."

Zer0 had left like nothing happened afterwards, and Timothy's heart began to sink in his chest, unsure how he just signed his fate.

NOW  
—

Getting a fit for Timothy's hand was easy enough; Rhys scheduled measurements, asked Timothy if he'd prefer something synthetic or one like his own with mechanical features, and then booked him a hotel room for the next few weeks.

It all seemed to come naturally, Timothy thought to himself, as he answered the questions Rhys asked. Once realizing Timothy was only an unfortunate doppelganger and nothing like Jack himself, all barriers seemed to drop and he actually treated Timothy like a _person,_ which was more than he could really ask for in this day and age. Most people would catch sight of his face and go screaming, or pull a gun and get their head blown off a moment later.

It was unfortunate how many lives could be lost because of a silly face, though it wasn't like Timothy was prepared to rip off the mask and flaunt the scar Jack had pressed into his skin years ago.

It didn't hurt anymore, which he supposed he could be thankful for except that it took out a good handful of the nerve function on his face. Talking was almost too difficult a task, worse when it came to expressing any form of positive emotion; trying to open his mouth entirely to laugh felt alienistic.

No one would notice unless they really tried, and it was hard to notice with the mask on his face anyway; it gave the allusion of a fully functioning face anyhow, hiding any form of motor damage. He was almost thankful he still had the mask in solid condition after so long.

Maybe he'd ask Rhys if he could get some gear to smooth out the cracks and patch it up. Surely that wouldn't be too much to ask?

When he does open his mouth to ask, however, Rhys doesn't seem pleased.

"Is it latched on?" Rhys asks, looking up from the interface on his palm.

That wasn't exactly the reaction Timothy had been hoping for. "Uh," he begins, rubbing his hand against the crook of his neck as he began to lean back in his chair, "no, not entirely, actually? I mean, it is latched on, obviously." He gestures up to the metal pieces on his forehead, "but nothing like, extreme? It can be taken off with like, a few fiddles."

They stare at each other for a few moments, the question lingering uncomfortably between them.

"I'd prefer for it to be um, fixed, if that's possible." Timothy finally says, dropping his hand back into his lap.

"I'm sure it can be," Rhys replies, and his smile makes Timothy feel somewhat unnerved. Like plastic, with no further emotion, no actual pleasure in helping Timothy; he tries to ignore the twisting in his gut, knowing full well he's become a burden to Atlas and is now in debt to yet another company.

He's starting to feel nauseous, thinking back on Moxxi's words, promising they'd get along; so far, Rhys seemed nothing short of a casual businessman. Someone who'd stab him in the back for a few thousands.

Rhys speaks before Timothy could spiral further, and he isn't sure if he's thankful or not. "Zer0 will walk you to your hotel."

On cue, Zer0 waves from behind Timothy before flashing a _;D_ at the two.

"Oh." Timothy turns his stare to Rhys, and they lock eyes for an uncomfortable amount of time. Timothy is just beginning to count it down before Rhys finally cocks his eyebrow in silent encouragement. "I just thought you'd tag along?" Now Timothy's starting to feel real pathetic. 

"I have work to do." Rhys replied, smile not as forced now. Timothy can spot the aging lines when his eyes crinkle and nose scrunches in amusement. "But I'll stop by later with some gifts for you, house warming and whatnot."

"A hotel isn't really a house." Timothy notes, confusion and panic turning into a somewhat lighter tone.

"Would you prefer a rent out a whole apartment complex for you? I wasn't aware you were so high quality."

Holy shit, Rhys is teasing him. Blood rushes beneath his mask faster than he could process, suddenly much more thankful for the disguise and much more annoyed with the cracks that could reveal how red he is compared to the white plaster.

"That's not what I meant."

Rhys clasps his hands together, and a breathy laugh escapes his lips. "I know," he said, "I know it wasn't. I'll see you later, Timothy."

The elevator ride down is quiet, almost uncomfortable in a sense, though Timothy begins to think he shouldn't have been surprised.

"You said we'd meet again," He finally begins. He's not nervous to be alone with Zer0; their first and only encounter had been enough to tell Timothy who the vault hunter truly was. Most thought they'd follow anybody who flashed the most money, and that the Vault of the Warrior was never anything personal; just another job.

Zer0 had bonded with their fellow vault hunters, as well as the people they had met in Sanctuary. They followed their words, and the threat to their newfound home, although temporary, had been enough to turn Zer0 on Handsome Jack entirely.

"I did, although it / was not expected to be / at Atlas, honest." Zer0 states, not bothering to turn their body to look at Timothy as they spoke.

Somehow, it made him relax. "You didn't kill me that day... I didn't really get a chance to properly thank you."

 _:)_ displays momentarily. "No need. Your alliance with / Atlas, as new as it may be, / will help us too."

Timothy doesn't understand what that means, though he's not sure if he's supposed to, at the end of the day. Zer0's cryptic mannerisms will never fail to get him to crack a smile.

The hotel is comfortable enough, Timothy realizes upon inspection; it only opens up to a specified key card Zer0 hands him, first swipe gaining entry, which is surprising and pleasant after Timothy's listless experiences of broken cards; the small things in life get him to appreciate it. Security stands guard at the entrance of the hallway, not bothering to follow Timothy with their gaze; he wondered if Rhys had already sent out an alarm to the Crimson Lance that he wasn't a threat, or if they had just knew immediately due to the fact Zer0 trailed after them as if there were nothing out of the ordinary. It got his stomach to rest.

"My return will be / imminent, rescuing you / from the empty state." Zer0 began, not bothering to trail after Timothy into the hotel room after the man had gotten the doors open. "A hotel room can / become lonely. Do not fear / calling if you wish."

The fact Zer0 offered to keep Timothy company gets him to smile, taking off his jacket and leaving himself only in his old, yellow Hyperion hoodie. He hangs it up nearby before crossing his arms over his chest, closing himself in and making himself smaller. "I'm used to being alone," He admits, "but thank you, Zer0. I appreciate it."

The assassin across from him flashes a smiling emoticon. "Rhys will be in contact." They conclude, and steps back to let the doors close.

Timothy takes the opportunity to look around the hotel room. The beige and white contrasts the twilight state of Promethea, casting faint yellow hues over the room. It was cozy, given the luxury of a double bed instead of a single, with a writing desk nearby and an empty black notebook in the center. A holographic model displays on a monitor set on top of the desk, with the visual of a brief checklist containing requests for room service the morning after. With a swipe, Timothy stumbles upon a request of a review for the same hotel, and with the pinch of his fingers, lets the monitor go black.

His hideout in the casino had been nothing close to comfortable; it was typically dark, with very little food or water. He was surprised the casino itself even had power after so long, though he was thankful, unsure what would've become of it if the power fell; _perhaps similar to what occurred with Helios,_ he realized with a chill.

"Well, I guess I should be enjoying this while it lasts." He says, to no one in particular besides himself, and the silence of Promethea welcomes him as he crawls into bed for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not a particular fan of this chapter. I wish I could've written more, but this is (possibly) the only chapter with big canon divergence. Sorry if it's not your thing.
> 
> I promise things will start picking up after this.  
> Also, happy Easter! I hope you're all having a wonderful Sunday.  
> All of your kudos and comments are so appreciated and lovely. Thank you for the support.
> 
> Also: how do we feel about keeping updates on Sunday? Does anyone want a date change? Unsure if it's too long of a wait, or if the day is inconvenient. Nothing sparked this besides my brain, lmao.


	4. A God named Atlas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys gets roasted. Zer0 finds it extremely amusing.

Rhys Strongfork never really knew anybody could have suffered trauma worse than Angel's own, and even then, Timothy Lawrence barely came close to scraping that surface. He wasn't sure if the man ever acknowledged it himself — Angel barely had a life, taken by Jack when she was young, twisted and manipulated by him as she grew up.

Timothy Lawrence, and his entire life, had been erased from history as they know it.

And Rhys had searched, though what he found was little to nothing, and was enough for anyone to believe he hadn't tried at all — even his own PA, who was notorious for finding dirt on anyone he crossed paths with, had nothing to show from the encounter.

"Timothy Lawrence," Vincent had said, watching an empty file flutter its way down onto Rhys' desk, "is erased from the history books."

"Which means he could be anyone," Rhys replied, fingers laced underneath his chin.

"You have no reason not to trust Moxxi — yet."

Vincent was a smart man, Rhys had to acknowledge that much. He could see true intentions before Rhys himself recognized it, making it a valuable skill to have around constantly; the man hung off his side like an accessory, looking just as much, though proper and prim. Vincent almost reminded him of his Hyperion days, but with a much better sense of fashion than he had at that age.

His personal assistant was no one to be stepped over, and he proved just as much in their first meeting; Rhys had suggested rescheduling their meeting and it was met with a firm response, one he remembered vividly —

_"We had both suggested this time because it fit into our schedule. If something's come up and you believe you cannot reschedule it for later, you simply don't have enough backbone in your body to deal with the lonesome job of being a CEO of a company named after a God."_

_And then, with a moment's hesitation, "Sir."_

Vincent was full of surprises, but was the balance Rhys needed; he got too annoyed trying to schedule and reschedule constantly, and it was common due to the nature of his job. His assistant took the struggles and set them on his own shoulders with the barest amount of tension, and requested even more when he could tell the CEO was falling under.

But it seemed he had nothing to turn up on Timothy Lawrence.

"I have every reason not to trust Moxxi," Rhys had said, resting a hand on the empty file and brushing his finger over the name encased on it. "We both know that."

"She's trusted you enough to give you full responsibility over taking care of a man she would've put a bullet in unless she had a reason to care." His assistant, arms crossed at his chest, tapped his foot against the marble of Rhys' office floor. "So if you don't trust her, the feeling may not be as mutual as you believe."

A night of digging had led them back to Athena.

A woman Rhys was still deathly afraid of, if he was being entirely honest; if looks could kill, he'd be six feet under and nothing but bones by now.

If Athena had wanted him dead, he was sure the outcome would've been the same.

Athena was a woman of mystery to him; capturing the attention of Janey Springs, her newfound wife, and bitter enough to dislike the idea of him at the wedding but nice enough to allow his presence anyway. She had gotten him drunk within twenty minutes of exchanging vows with Springs, clapped him on the shoulder, and wished him a good night before abandoning him in the presence of the rest of his friends. They might've found it amusing at the time, but by the end of the night, when their shoes were soaked with his stomach bile, they couldn't find it in their hearts to continue teasing him.

Sasha, especially — though she was always too blunt with Athena, she wouldn't have been able to get information as well as Zer0 was attempting at the moment.

Rhys snaps back into reality, just as Zer0 concludes another haiku, "...he had / mentioned work with Jack."

"Ooh, that fella? Jimothy he called 'emself, couldn't say the real one," Springs was sitting right beside Athena, wanting to know why a vault hunter and the CEO of Atlas was contacting them. It had also failed to cross either of their minds that it was currently rather late on Pandora right now, for the standards of the aggressively long time cycle it was stuck in. "So you found him, huh? He alright? 'Ya didn't hurt him, did you?"

Zer0 flashes a :3 from behind Rhys, but fails to reply, leaving Rhys with the attention of the women.

He sighs, flesh hand pinching the bridge of his nose. "He's okay."

"Oh, goody. He was real nice, you know, even if he—" Springs' ramble is cut off by her wife.

"Rhys, I fail to understand why you're coming to me about this. Lawrence and I worked together years ago. Lilith isn't a threat and I don't think she will be for quite some time," The gladiator crosses her arms at her chest, and at the mention of Lilith, both her and Janey look out the nearby window. Rhys cringes at the realization of what exactly they're looking at. "You said Moxxi had it under control. There's no need for my input here."

Moxxi.

Rhys sighs, leaning back in his chair, and runs both hands through his hair before dropping them into his lap. "You know how it is with her, Athena."

"I don't think I do, actually." Athena's reply is cold, blunt enough to get his shoulders to hike up to his ears. "You don't trust her?"

"If I said no, could you blame me?"

"Yes, actually. I could."

_LOL._

Rhys turns to glare back at Zer0, but it doesn't last very long. Athena's speaking before he can bother to retort. "You uploaded a Handsome Jack AI into your brain and didn't immediately run off to get mental help when it happened. You didn't even bother trying to contact Hyperion again, instead waiting until the very last minute to tell anyone it had happened to begin with. You let him manipulate you for months on end with no ending in sight, and lied to all your friends about it." She leans forward, continuing without mercy, "And then, you had tried to upload him back into the Helios systems, and trusted him enough to believe he'd make you the CEO of Hyperion when—"

"—When Jack has never gone through on a deal with anybody, in any way, and instead fucked them over? I know."

Athena glared at him, while Janey beside her made up an excuse for tea before disappearing.

"I know, Athena." Rhys says, softer this time, barely audible despite the stiff silence in the room, "I know."

"Then you should know why your own distrust of Moxxi is your own fault." Athena replies, focusing on him, eyebrows furrowed. "I had to witness the betrayals that Jack went through first hand. And all of them were coming to him, one way or another, and he was blinded by his own pride to see that."

Jack was a topic that always seemed to get Athena riled up. There was no way to avoid it this time.

"I know," Rhys replies.

"Timothy is his own kind of mess. But he isn't Jack, and I don't think he ever will be. Actor or not. You can't mold yourself into someone you hate. All it does is the exact opposite."

"You're suggesting he's the opposite of Jack?" Rhys sits up, leans forward, the flesh palm of his hand pressing against his cheek. Athena doesn't look amused, barely giving him a second glance.

"I'm not suggesting it, Rhys. That's my input, you asked for it." Athena looks at the window, then back to the Atlas CEO. "I'm going to bed."

"Goodnight, Athena."

The call ends with an abrupt blink into a black screen, and Rhys waves his interface away before setting his face into his hands. The room is unnervingly quiet before Zer0 interrupts, "You just got roasted / by a woman with purple / hair. Are you alright?"

"I'm okay," Rhys replies, automatic. He's not even sure if it's the truth at this point. Being put into his place by Athena was practically a constant for him, so why had it been different this time? "I will be, at least. In a few minutes."

"Athena was not wrong, you / are worrying about problems that / simply don't exist."

In the end, he knew Zer0 was only trying to help, whether the assassin knew how to assist in human problems or not. Their time spent around their own team of vault hunters gave them some sort of view on it, but he wasn't even sure the expansion of their knowledge; Rhys never bothered to ask.

He remembered, once asking Zer0 if they were even human, a bro to bro moment as he'd explained. The assassin had tilted their head before a ;) popped up, and their only answer before moving on from the topic, was a solid, "No."

It never made Rhys lose sleep. It was actually endearing, in a way, knowing his beliefs about Zer0's origin were true in a way.

They were friends, better friends than he could have ever imagined. Zer0's lack of knowledge on how to assist on feelings were to be expected, and Rhys never got upset over it. Instead, he turns to look back at the assassin, smiling.

"Thanks, Zero."

 _:D_ displays over their helmet, moving to open the office door for Rhys in a silent suggestion to go home. "Anytime, bro."

When Rhys left, home bound, he wasn't sure if the words Athena had said to him were going to keep him awake for the remainder of the night. He doesn't attempt to sleep anyway, popping open an expensive bottle of wine and heading to his couch to lounge on.

His attention goes to Timothy's missing hand, and he exhales heavily before bringing himself off the couch to find empty blueprints scattered around the house. He gathers his pens before heading to his desk, blueprints tucked under his arm, pens in his mouth, wine in his mechanical hand. He tosses everything onto his desk upon arrival and carefully sets the wine down.

Timothy Lawrence is an interesting case, indeed. Rhys isn't sure what to do about the man, but damn, he will give him the best hand Atlas has ever created.

Now, individual body parts were tricky, but easier than the full limb itself. Timothy was definitely lucky to lose a hand and not an entire arm. The hand would be much easier to take care of, clean, wire up, and the surgery wouldn't be too extensive.

Rhys remembered, after his own surgery on his arm, the pain that had lasted for weeks. Away with a perfectly good, working arm and in with a mechanical. It was probably the worst decision of his life, whether or not it was based simply on the pain or the stupid idea of a mechanical arm to work his way up the Hyperion ranks easier.

Timothy's loss of his hand hadn't been on his own terms.

To make up for that, Rhys was going to make it the most extravagant piece of technology he possibly could. Even if it meant staying up all night.

Timothy Lawrence is sitting front and center at Rhys' desk when he arrives, which is a sight in of itself. The CEO, with barely one foot in the door, can't say he's surprised. Zer0 pops an amused emoticon from where they stand behind the desk, waving eagerly at Rhys' arrival.

Rhys lifts his flesh hand in response, mechanical hand wrapped around a cup of coffee. Timothy turns in his seat to look back at Rhys, and their eyes meet for only a moment before the doppelganger is suddenly finding the floor much more interesting.

Rhys smiles, lazily, beginning to walk again. "'Morning. Am I late?" He sets his coffee down and moves to take his seat.

"You would be, if we had this, you know... Properly scheduled." Timothy replies, a sideways smile at his lips.

Rhys raises his eyebrows and cranes his head back, examining his bodyguard, who doesn't even bother trying to give an apologetic emoticon. "Too bright and early, / how you typically work / except for today."

He doesn't even need to glance at the time to know it's hours past when he'd usually come in. Promethea's constant state of twilight makes it hard for some to adjust to the sleeping schedule, but the light twinkle of the sky is enough to justify the fact it's daytime by now. He simply grabs onto his coffee and sips it to hide his expression of shame.

"It's okay, really," Timothy begins, leaning forward in his chair across from Rhys' desk, "I just, uh... Ze and I had fun playing some of the games you have around here?"

Rhys pauses, staring at the doppelganger. "Games?" He repeats once his coffee is swallowed down.

"Oh, yeah!" Timothy chuckles, his only hand rubbing the back of his neck. "Like, tic tac toe and whatever."

Rhys looks down at the paperwork on his desk and turns it over, slowly, to find a variety of scribbles on it. He squawks at the sight, a high pitched, indignant sound escaping him, that gets both Timothy and Zer0 to laugh.

The assassin has barely laughed in their time with the Atlas CEO, but it's always nice — blunt, amused noises of garbled laughter before it'd fall suddenly quiet, escaping as if it had never been there.

"You guys are jerks," Rhys says, looking up at Timothy with a scrunch of his nose, "how am I supposed to get you a brand new and functioning hand when all my stuff is scribbled over? Not cool at all."

Timothy's soft laughter dies down, and the two stare at each other for a few moments before Rhys' serious expression turns into a sly smile. He tucks the paperwork away into the finished pile anyway, setting it aside to be sent out by his assistant later.

"I do apologize for being late, however. I was up late."

Timothy lets out a heavy breath and nods, tense shoulders dropping. "Late? Like... doing CEO stuff?"

Rhys pauses his movements of transferring his blueprints onto a bare one in front of himself, staring at the paper for a moment before chuckling. "What else would I be doing, obviously? The grind... Well, never stops, according to most."

Timothy leans over to examine the technology. A beam of translucent, harsh blue light spills out over the blank blueprints from Rhys' mechanical palm. With a slow and precise movement of bringing his hand over top of the bare paper, images begin to form. Sketches, scribbled words, and thoughts spilled onto paper show up as if it had never left.

"That's... Wow," Timothy says, eyes widened. "Is that... Is that Atlas technology?"

"Yeah," Rhys says, idle with the response, "Atlas is a titan in the field of nanotechnology and manufacturing. We use our resources to our own advantages and send them off to the market for other companies to take hold of."

"Like a patent?" Timothy asks, with a tilt of his head, standing up now and leaning over the desk to examine the blueprints.

"Similar, yes." Rhys replies, the fingers of his mechanical clenching up into a fist once it was done scanning. The ink flashes a bright blue for a moment before sinking into the paper, and Timothy runs a hand over the paper. None of it smudges.

"Wow," Timothy exhales, and looks up at the CEO a moment later. Rhys has to lean back so they aren't inches apart, and smiles politely at the man at his desk. "That kinda makes me feel better about uh, who's making the replacement for this," The man stands up straight and waves his arm with the missing hand.

"You're in good hands. Moxxi promised as much," Rhys states, putting both his hands together for a moment before his flesh hand moves to turn the blueprints over for Timothy to examine. "I wanted to discuss the prosthetic hand with you. I got a head start on the sketches last night. The front and back, fingers, wrist, but it's left blank for now."

Timothy nods, eyeing Rhys' own cybernetic, and the man turns it over for him to examine. "The question in mind is if you'd like something similar to my own, with it's own aesthetic, and shown off an as obvious prosthetic, or something similar to a flesh hand."

Timothy scrunches his nose. "Flesh hand," He repeats.

"Saying 'real' hand just always sounds dehumanizing." Rhys admits, and the man nods in agreement before he continues, "either way, we'll be replacing various nerves and muscles in your wrist and arms in order to attach it. It's similar to bluetooth."

"Bluetooth hand?" Timothy looks at the area his hand once was.

"Yeah, so the cybernetic nerves will send signals up to your brain, which they'll take as muscle responses and let you move your hand around." Rhys replies, lifting up his cybernetic hand with a small smile, "it's similar to how mine works. The port typically helped with that as well, and I can upload information straight into my port and therefore both my echoeye and hand, but it's not necessary."

"Seems like a lot of work." Timothy steps back and sits back down in his chair, setting his hand on his knee.

"In surgery, yes, it is. It requires an extensive amount and is rather repetitive. With Pandora being a planet built for chaos and the wars that had been ongoing here on Promethea, we had to employ a variety of specialty surgeons and train even more." Rhys looks down, frowning. "A lot of the surgeries done were for children or young adults who lost their limbs in accidents. Pandoran or Promethea citizens."

It's then that the air seems to change — Timothy stares back at the man, head tilting. "Atlas was the reason Promethea began to fall into disarray, wasn't it?"

Rhys looks away, staring out one of the floor to ceiling windows. "Yes, it was." They're both silent for a few more seconds before Rhys continued. "Atlas came onto Promethea searching for ancient Eridian technology. They succeeded, and began to set up base, but retreated off the planet when the structures began to fail."

He gestures to the walls around them. "This office once belonged to... God, I wish I knew how many Atlas CEO's before me," He looks down at his hands, solemn for a few moments, before speaking again. "Both Pandora and Promethea were failed by corporations. In hindsight, they're nothing more than bloodthirsty monsters who want any and all reason to start wars and sell more weaponry."

He clears his throat and leans forward. "Are you aware that every single item bought from the major eight companies is fueling wars around the galaxy?"

"I guess I never really thought about it." Timothy admits, "but it makes sense. Even Anshin, Pangolin, the ones that focus on shields or health pick-me-ups. Their companies are all fueled by the fact there will always be a war somewhere in the world."

Rhys nods. "Hospitals aren't similar in this way. Getting into accidents, needing surgeries, diseases, are all inevitable," He continues, "humanity will stay the same, with peace or not; we will always be clumsy, with a flimsy sense of life and strength. It's easy to get yourself killed, easier than it is to live. And thus, hospitals prepare for this fact. But Anshin, companies that set aside vending machines for instant injectors of hypos,"

He leans forward, lacing his fingers, his hands settled on his desk. "Do you realize the Anshin's they sell in those vending machines only often give adrenaline rushes? They can be used more-so for drugs than actual medicine."

"They've saved my ass a couple times." Timothy replies, "I would be dead without them."

"Sure, because you find them around the bandit camps you destroy. Just waiting." Rhys says.

Timothy leans back in defeat, his back hitting the chair with a grunt, and tilts his head to the side. "What are you trying to say?"

Rhys smiles, albeit weakly, "Atlas was built on the want for technology advances. The urge to build better lives for millions, and they ended up collapsing due to the deaths of those millions when they left Promethea in shambles. It's not my intent to follow in their footsteps."

"So, Atlas is focusing more on this?" Timothy gestures to the blueprints.

"Atlas should have been focusing on this from the beginning, but it's nothing I can change. We're known for weaponry that packs a strong punch and I have no want to change that. I couldn't, even if I tried." Rhys says, "and because of that, I focus primarily on this type of technology while my trusted teams work with weaponry."

"You sound like you're trying to convince yourself that you're not a bad person." A soft puff of laughter escapes Timothy's lips, but quickly dies seeing Rhys' solemn expression.

"Maybe," He says, "How can I let myself believe otherwise and live with that?"

There's a moment of silence, and then it almost seems to explode when both men speak at the same time; "Do you want to go get breakfast?" Asks Rhys.  
"Have you eaten?" From Timothy.

They stare at each other for a few moments before a shy smile crosses Timothy's lips. "I guess that answers that, huh?"

"I can order something." Zer0 offers nearby, not in their usual haiku.

Rhys thinks for a moment before shaking his head, gathering his blueprints and getting up to his feet. "Lets go get some fresh air. There's a good cafe nearby."

"I thought Promethea had a thing for noodle shops." Timothy questions, following suit with standing up.

"Oh, we do," Rhys grins, "but we'll save that for dinner."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW. I am so sorry for how long this took. Genuinely.
> 
> I promise this is still being worked on, and I still have very high hopes for this; hopefully there will be another proper posting schedule if people are still interested in reading.
> 
> My tumblr is gcrtys is you ever want updates or just wanna hmu and talk!


End file.
